


A Long Time Coming.

by LifeInWentworth



Category: Wentworth - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:35:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeInWentworth/pseuds/LifeInWentworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: What if it was three years in the future and it’s Erica’s wedding day to Mark, and I can see her wearing this gorgeous white dress and Franky crashes the wedding which causes feelings to resurface on Erica’s part and she cancels the wedding to be with the woman she truly loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Time Coming.

Erica looked in the mirror; a brief moment to herself. Everything was perfect. Her hair, the beautiful necklace that her mother had given her to wear and the dress, well, Erica wasn’t one to blow her horn very often but it just looked simply gorgeous.   
“Beautiful, Erica,” Sylvia slipped into the room, champagne in each hand.  
Erica smiled, “One of those for me?”  
Sylvia handed her a glass of champagne, “He’s not going to know what’s hit him.”  
Erica blushed, looking uncomfortable, “Sylvia…”  
Sylvia sighed, “Erica, what is it?”  
“What if this…what if…”  
“It’s just nerves,” Sylvia hugged her friend, pulling back looking at Erica, “Isn’t it?”  
Erica chewed her lip but smiled, “Yeah, yeah of course it is,” why couldn’t she stop pretending?

Franky had seen it in the paper. Of course, that prick and Erica’s parents were the kind of upper class idiots who thought the rest of the world needed to hear when their beloved daughter was getting married. It wasn’t hard to find the church. For once, Franky didn’t really have a plan, she just wanted to see it. See that it was real, that Erica was never hers and would never be hers. Maybe then, she could move on with her life. Because right now, she was stuck. She had tried to contact Erica a thousand times once she was out of Wentworth but Erica refused to see her. Franky tried to shrug it off and move on but even when Kim got out, she could tell Franky was hung up on someone and it wasn’t hard to guess who. She’d never been so long without sex. Or at least sex with another. Franky tried not to think about Erica when she slipped her hand under the blanket, but her head always took her there and then her hand took her to pure ecstasy, but it never lasted. Some nights she’d just swear, angry at herself and some nights she’d cry like a fucking baby. She stopped drumming her fingers on the steering wheel and got out of the car.  
Erica poured herself another champagne when Sylvia took a bathroom break. She loved Mark. Didn’t she? He was steady, he was kind and he loved Erica. She saw it in his eyes every day. He could take care of her. He could be sweet, he was always bringing her flowers and cooking her favourite meals. He made love to her so kindly, so gently, so…  
“Fuck,” she swore, “so fucking boring,” she muttered.  
She put the champagne glass down. This was her life, her parents adored Mark, Sylvia thought he was great. She had to do this. Really, there was no other option.  
“Ready to head off?” Sylvia asked.  
“Sure,” Erica plastered on the smile and they headed to the car.

Franky sat inconspicuously in the back row, hoping nobody would notice her. She needed to do this, to see that Erica had really chosen that guy over her. Over any kind of other life. She had chosen to marry him, to devote her entire life to him. She could already feel the tears welling in her eyes. Why was she putting herself through this? She should just leave. This was too hard. There’d probably be more fucking photo’s in the paper to prove it anyway. She stood up, heading out of the church, wiping her eyes, cursing herself. She squinted through the sun and…  
“Franky? What are you…”  
Franky was lost for words, she hadn’t thought Erica could look any more perfect but in that dress, she looked like a fucking an angel.  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come. I’m leaving, Erica,” she kept walking, “good luck. I really hope you’re happy.”  
The thing that hurt Erica the most was that she could see that Franky meant it. She couldn’t believe she was just going to walk away like that, without a fight. It started to sink in, it was over. She’d pretended it was over all that time ago, but it hadn’t been but now, Franky had just made it over. And Erica wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t ruin her makeup. She couldn’t…  
She turned to Sylvia but before she knew it her feet were taking her down the aisle.

Franky slammed the door and headed straight to her punching bag in the tiny backyard that came with her apartment. Somehow, she had enough rational to put her gloves and began punching the bag, through blurred vision. She didn’t bother trying to hold back the tears now, there was no around, she’d admitted to herself long ago that Erica was her biggest weakness. She’d thought it would be over now. Seeing the church, seeing her fiancée, husband, whatever standing at the end of the aisle with a huge smile on his face and Erica arrive in that dress that made her look like she belonged in Heaven. But it wasn’t over. It would never be over, Franky thought. Not for her, she’d stop pursuing Erica, sure, she’d done that a while ago, but she’d never stop thinking about her. She couldn’t.   
When she’d worn herself out, she settled on her couch, drinking beer after beer until there was a knock at the door. She ignored it, it was probably Kim coming to check on her, she was doing that a lot lately. The knocking didn’t stop.  
“Coming,” she yelled, sculling the last of her bottle and heading to the door, rubbing her eyes. It was getting late, her house was dark. She opened the door.  
“Erica,” she breathed, “what are you…” she shook her head, “You should be on your honeymoon or at your reception or, or…or something.”  
But there she was, out of her wedding dress, standing at Franky’s door. What could she say?  
“I didn’t go through with it,” was all she could think to say and then after about two minutes of the two of them staring at one another “Can I come in?”  
Franky nodded, opening the door further and standing back, “Sure, yeah.”  
Erica walked in, looking around; she’d always pictured Franky somewhere bigger but that didn’t make sense, not really, how could she afford anything better than a crappy little apartment after leaving prison?  
“Erica, what…what happened?”  
Erica spotted the beers on Franky’s coffee table, “Got one of those for me?”  
Franky raised her eyebrows but nodded, “Yeah, yeah of course,” she grabbed them both a beer from the fridge, handing one to Erica, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s fine. But are you alright?”  
Erica took a deep breath in and exhaled with her eyes closed, “Franky,” she opened her eyes, “I’m actually fine. I’m alright. I’m...” she hesitated, “good. Is that horrible to say? I just left the man who adores me at the altar and I feel…I feel free.”  
Franky was taken aback, “No, no Erica, it’s not horrible at all. If it wasn’t right…”  
“It wasn’t right,” Erica actually smiled as she moved closer to Franky, “I still think about you all the time. I just pretended I didn’t want to see you; I thought it would be eaiser, I thought with time it would just go away. But Mark just doesn’t get me, he doesn’t excite me. And I just couldn’t stop thinking of the way you looked at me, like you could always see right through me, into my mind, into my thoughts, into my desires.”  
Franky watched as Erica spoke, mesmerised by her voice and her words, “Erica…,” she shook her head, not knowing what to say, “I don’t know what to say.”  
Erica laughed, “That’s a first.”  
Franky smiled weakly, “I love you, Erica. I guess it’s as simple as that for me. Always have and always will. I can’t stop it either, I’ve tried. But…I don’t think I ever really wanted to stop.”  
Erica put her beer down and took the bottle out of Franky’s hand, touching her cheek for only a moment before she leaned in and placed her lips on Franky’s, shyly at first but she was hungry, they both were and it quickly became messy and fierce, but somewhat perfect. It couldn’t even compare to the kisses she shared with Mark. There was a burning in her chest and she pulled Franky closer to her, never breaking contact with her. Franky was somehow careful with her as she pulled her closer still and started unbuttoning Erica’s shirt. And just like that, Erica knew she had made the right decision.


End file.
